


end of the beginning

by respierra



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Death, Other, Pre-Series, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 10:38:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3485123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/respierra/pseuds/respierra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>they don't try to pretend they don't deserve this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	end of the beginning

**Author's Note:**

> something i wrote a couple years back and decided to finish.

She holds his head in her lap as blood drips down his mouth. Her eyes are calm and unblinking as she watches the life drain from her - what is Roy? Comrade, boss? She supposes it doesn't matter now.

He turns to face her, and she finds no bravery or courage in it, yet no fear. Only acceptance. His lips are moving, but it takes her precious moments to decipher the whispers.

"Where do you think I'll go once I die?" The weak smile he has pulled across his features is dangerous. She takes the bait anyway.

"If there is any justice in this world, you will rot in hell."

A beat passes.

"Sir."

Its her turn to look at where the small puddle forms a small lake behind Roy's back, but they both ignore it. Instead he fills the gaping silence in the only way he knows how.

  
"I never took you as one to believe in such places, Lieutenant." She doesn't have the words to answer him.

Around them is the smell of metal and rust. Smoke obliterates any details in the vision they have, so Riza can only watch the man dying in her arms. Somehow, it isn't a terribly sad event.

Surprising, sure. Inevitable, definitely. What shocks her is when the Ishbalite ran at Roy's back, tears streaming down his face with the fury at seeing the blue uniform, she did nothing to stop him.

Neither did Roy.

Instead, they both stood there as the boy drove a knife into his flesh, bringing the Colonel silently to his knees. It's only then that Riza pulled her gun with a disturbing familiarity and shot the assailant. She didn't even hear the body hit the ground before she was moving towards the older man.

Immediately after, guilt seeps into her bloodstream. The hollowness of a miscalculation and a missed chance slamming into her gut. She curses the defect of her reflexes, the dream like slowness of her actions seconds after Roy is stabbed, and how could she be so careless? To be oblivious to the man harming her responsibility.

But deep down-or barely underneath the surface-she knows her timing was perfect. The steadiness of her aim remains unparalleled.

This is justice.

This is relief.

She waits until the end, when the blood has finally stopped flowing. Roy looks at her with unblinking, rapt attention as he watches the movement of her cocking her gun. Its still warm from earlier, and slightly comforting when she raises the barrel to her temple. In a melodramatic fashion she doesn't really care for, Riza leans down. Her lips brush against Roy's clammy forehead before she rises her head again, the other continuing to stare (to judge her) as she prepares.

Riza breathes in a lungful of gunpowder and rust, and in her head she begins to count to ten. The sound of their search party echoes distantly in her ears. They haven't reported to camp in hours, and the war needs its alchemist (his sharpshooter, too, if they want to win).

Riza closes her eyes to ignore Roy's dead ones. She only makes it to 7 before her finger curls around the trigger.


End file.
